Memor Advena
by Riverside Princess
Summary: (CSI: New York, contains slash and implied sex) Basically... a sort of fluffy romance story with lots of angst. Danny-centric. Posted here 'cuz there is no CSI: New York category


Title: Memor Advena (Thoughtful Stranger)

Synopsis:

Pairing: Mac Taylor/ Danny Messer, Danny/ OFC in the beginning

Authors Notes:

I.

The rain fell in some bittersweet mocking of the young mans sadness. Mother Nature mourning for him or for those children she had lost. Because everyone was her child… and it must be death for her to see her children murdering one another. So, Danny Messer didn't mind when Mother Nature cried—but he hated when he cried along with her. But he walked down the dirty streets, streets that were sopped with rain, misting slightly and gleaming rainbow from the countless oil spills. He shook his head, knowing that Mother Nature wasn't just crying for her children… but for the disease being wrought upon her. He sighed and watched as tear drops fell onto his glasses, making it hard for him to see. He continued walking though, not really caring that his expensive suit was going to be ruined, not caring that the hair he spent hours on would fall flat, he just didn't care anymore. Nothing made sense anymore, but it didn't matter, because as much as he promised his friend he wouldn't do it, he was going to anyways. He was making his way back to his apartment, glad he had gotten the best of the bunch. Penthouse apartment, paid in full by his parents when he first started attending NYU all those years ago, and now all he had to pay for were the bills and upkeep, which were a lot easier on his pocket than moving into a new apartment would be. He wandered the streets until he arrived at his apartment. He was impressed, still, that his parents had all that money. They had gotten by when he was younger; living in a shady area, but his grandparents had died and left them a lot of money. They hadn't moved, but they made sure their baby had the best of everything. But now, his life didn't seem to mean much anymore. He walked up the steps, taking them slowly to think everything over. He knew what he wanted to do, knew that he had to do it as sure as his soul ached in his body. He finally reached the top of the stairs. Two doors… one to the hallway where his room was… and one to the roof. He pushed open the door to the roof.

He walked along there, feeling the chill, the cold rain which was almost snow. He stepped along, thinking still, and pacing. Wondering why he had ever let himself spiral this long… wondering why he hadn't ended it before… or why he hadn't gotten help when it was easier to solve. He let out a sigh, watching his breath dissipate into the air. He watched, and waited, and listened. He sensed nothing out of the ordinary… the only thing strange was the racing of his heart as he took small steps towards the edge. His heart thudded loudly in his ears, sounding like a sick imitation of tribal drums as he was about to embark on a sacred journey. Maybe he was… maybe death was the spiritual reawakening he needed. Maybe death would finally grant him salvation. He stopped on the ledge, peering over into the street below. Cars flashed by, headlights and sleek metal bodies, filled with what Danny was sure were yuppies, content with their fate… rushing through life with a cell phone attached to their ear and a mocha latte attached to their hand. He felt a surge of bitterness rise within him and he couldn't place why. But then he could. Content… happiness… a feeling of existential happiness, never to be corrupted by the crueler sides of society. They didn't notice the death, the decay… the world and youth crumbling around their ears. They didn't notice anything. And Stella… and Aiden… and everyone else… they were all a part of that generation. They didn't notice his pain, his constant suffering. His empty soulless shell where he was alive but not living. The only person who remotely knew how he felt was probably Detective Flack. He hadn't had it all handed to him, he knew what it was like… on the streets. He took his glasses off and set them on the ledge beside him, sitting down to think some more, he knew he was going to do it; he just had to figure it all out.

Sorting it out was the problem as it had all become convoluted in the depths of his mind. Sheer idiocy cried out from within as suddenly he couldn't remember why he was suffering, just knowing that he was. A sense of non-feeling as he wondered why he was going to throw himself over the edge, forever lost in the world under the ground. A world with the rotting corpses of all the dead. He had long since lost faith in everything. He no longer believed in an afterlife, especially not the concept of heaven. After seeing the world he lived in, murder and death abound, the cruelties people committed on one another, he would never believe that a god who could make a beautiful holy place would ever allow such corruption to run rampant. What god, he'd ask himself, would allow his supposedly chosen children suffer? He had, every day when he walked to and from work, seen homeless people. Kids and teenagers and elderly people who had naught a penny to their name… just emptiness where their lives had been. Vacant expression in their eyes as they begged for money, money they thought could make their problems go away. They rarely got it… it was a final hope… a desperate clinging that something was going to look out for them. But Danny knew that the only person who would look out for you was you. Anger surged in him once again and he stood up. He needed to stop his analysis… let it all go. He stepped closer to the edge, closed his eyes, he no longer wanted to exist. Transitioning… he went from tortured soul to free bird… he went to make the final step…

"Sir!" A female voice brought Danny from his musings and he whirled around, breathless that he had been caught in a moment of weakness, weak at the knees with relief that someone had stopped him. He stepped from the edge, grabbed his glasses, and looked at the girl… who was not much older than a teenager. He was sure she thought life was grand, she looked like she might. Young, thin, blonde, light blue eyes… judging by her physique, probably a cheerleader. And Danny remembered days when he would kill to be with someone like that. And he remembered that he used to be able to drive the ladies wild with just a smile. He smiled at her and he saw her reaction. He guessed he still had it. It was a bad decision, but he invited her to his apartment, after asking her how old she was and confirming she was legal. When they had sex, he didn't feel a thing. It felt numb, mechanical. And when he woke up the next morning she was gone. And as always, he woke up empty.

Mac Taylor didn't even need to be a CSI to notice immediately that something was off about Danny. He looked more frazzled, less like himself. He looked like he'd been hit with a four by four… and he wondered if there was anything he could do. But then, he noticed that Danny probably hadn't showered, from the way his hair looked just flat. The smell of sex rolled off of him, but Mac could tell it wasn't the good kind… he had smelled it before… all the time in college… where the kids just did it to do it. He shook his head disapprovingly… but decided not to say anything.

Danny was shocked when the next night… Jenna had showed up at his door. She was taking a risk, wandering around the apartment complex with a trench coat on and sexy lingerie underneath. He had barely shut the door when she was plastered to him. Their lips and bodies pressed together, creating a heat which no fire could emulate. It should have been hot. It should have been an eternity of lust. But he lost interest fast, and he couldn't lead her on. So he told her straight up that he didn't love her. She told him that she was married. And suddenly… the sex was good, relationships beyond it didn't matter, and he grabbed her by her waist and carried her, her long legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed at her neck and chest. He didn't care anymore… it was a release. A dizzy sort of high. She left that night and he showered, not caring during but feeling dirty afterwards. He washed for an hour, until the water was becoming cold and he couldn't feel his skin from the numbness of rubbing it too hard. He stepped out of the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel. He fell asleep on the couch, dreaming about dark eyes and a beautiful face.

Their affair went on for several months, until one night, she just stopped showing up. He didn't care really, though the bed was a little more spacious than he remembered… and the nights were colder. He wasn't coping well, still empty and with nothing to get by on. He was sitting there, knocking back a bottle of vodka as his last salvation of the world, when his door was knocked on. He hoped that it was Jenna, needing some relief for his built up tension. He opened the door and saw it was Mac. He stepped aside.

"Cha doin' here, Mac?" Danny asked, voice slightly slurred with the effects of the alcohol. He knew Mac was mad at him, he hadn't been working up to par… this was bad. Mac was brooding as the silence stretched on, Danny kept on drinking. Mac whirled on him, snatched the bottle from his hand and threw it against the wall… the shattering glass started Danny out of his drunken haze. The alcohol dripped to the floor, dripping onto the broken glass. The silence stretched on, except for a small whimper from Danny. He had invoked the wrath of something worse than any god he didn't believe in. He had invoked the wrath of a man whom held his highest respect. Mac watched the alcohol trace paths down the wall.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Danny?" Mac finally asked quietly. Danny didn't know how to answer; he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what was wrong or why he was doing the things he was. Or maybe he did. Maybe it was because the one thing he wanted wasn't within his reach, maybe it's because the one thing he needed wouldn't look at him. He started to grow angry, hands shaking with violent tremors. He whirled, glared at Mac with such intensity it burned, scorched right through his soul like a wild fire.

"It isn't your business. Every day I work, what I do then, that's your business. You have no right… NO RIGHT… to come BARGING in here telling ME how to live MY LIFE!" Danny screamed at him, anger compelling him to pace, gesticulating wildly as his anger grew as each minute ticked by. Mac watched him pace… thinking prowl would be a more appropriate adjective. Anger coursed through Danny, Mac could feel it. Anger and sadness… passion. Mac was confused, wasn't sure why he had come here anyways. Doesn't know why he started the fight in the first place. He was right…

"You're right. It isn't my business. And I wouldn't have even wasted my time coming here if I would have known you'd act like a spoiled little brat! Don't you understand, Danny? I'm worried about you, so worried it's making me sick. I… I see you destroying yourself… and I don't want to see that happen to you. I don't want to see you pulled beneath an angry river of despair and hopelessness… I want to help you." Mac was pleading now, not with his words, but the inflection in his voice. Begging Danny to take a step back and slow down. He remembered the words of a wise person. "Live fast… die young." He chided silently, and turned to walk out the door, taking the expression on Danny's face to be a bad sign. He stopped in the doorway, not turning.

"If you keep going on like this Danny… we might have to let you go. Disorderly conduct in your own home is fine… but drinking on the job could cause the scene to be compromised… and if I find out that you're drunk. You can bet your educated ass you'll be back on the street faster than you can say investigator." Mac walked out, shut the door behind him, and didn't look back until he was safely on the street. Little did Danny know that those words stung Mac as well.

Those words thudded in Danny's mind as he tried to get some sleep. The anger that he had seen Mac exude, but the calm and collected manner he had delivered it in. He tossed and he turned, wondering if Mac really would fire him. But then… wouldn't that be…

Jobless… on the street. He scoffed. He was too good at his job that he would remain jobless for long. A promotion loomed over him. Then he wondered what he was screwing it all up for. A pretty face with dark eyes… taunting dark eyes. Eyes that rarely showed emotion, but eyes that could cry as well, he knew. Danny could feel when Mac cried. Forces of nature. Like when Mother Nature cried. It was all connected. Danny got out of bed and got dressed. He needed to talk to someone. He had to tell someone about how he felt. So, he hailed a cab and went to Stella's house.

Stella was sleeping on the couch, wearing low riding knit pants and spaghetti tank. It was her pajamas. The doorbell rang and she jumped, a small frightened cry sneaking past her lips. She grabbed her gun off the table and walked to the door, she glanced at the clock. Its green letters stated the time at 4:00 AM. She grunted and saw Danny, face tear streaked, and suddenly, the time didn't seem so important anymore. She swung the door open, ushered him, offered him tea (which he declined). They sat down at the kitchen table as she brewed a pot of tea. She gave him a small smile.

"How can I help you, Danny?" Stella asked, hoping it was the right question to ask. It wasn't… as Danny started sobbing. She sighed. _Oh boy…here we go again… _She grabbed Danny's hand. "C'mon Danny… what's wrong…?" She asked, patting his hand fondly.

"I… I don't want him mad at me anymore. I don't know why I was doing it, but I swear I'll stop. I just… I love him so much… and I can't tell him because he's so…" Danny sniffled, rubbed his eyes. "He's so… Mac." He finished, resting his head on the table. "I love him so much though, Stella… how am I going to tell him?"

He was back there again. Wind whistling around him like some strange demented form of music. He was standing next to his glasses, watching the lights flash below, and there was a slight drizzle. He took a deep breath… and took a step back. Fear wrenched his gut, cowardice raced through his mind. He shook his head… he had to be resolute. He stepped back up, snatches of memories flashing through his mind. All the times Mac had said something to him, nice comments. All the times Mac had conveyed something to him with a look or smile. His resolve faltered, for just one second. He took another deep breath and went to step off.

"DANNY!" A voice yelled to him. That voice. The last of his resolve slipped away and he fell backward, staring up at the clouded sky as his own tears mixed with the ones from above. He sighed sadly, he couldn't even commit suicide right. His body shook with sobs as he heard Mac moved beside him. He sat up, drenched as the rain picked up, drenching both men. Danny's body racked silently with sobs as Mac encircled the younger man in his arms.

"Danny…" He whispered, confused and pleading. A strange brew of emotions that simmered on the surface, spiced with anger and sadness. Such a strange concoction. But relief was the main scent as Mac held Danny in his arms.

They looked ludicrous, sitting in Danny's living room draped in sheets as they waited for their clothes to dry. Danny and Mac were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, sexual tension crackling with an almost obscene heat. The television was on, creating background noise. The two men remained silent. Mac was trying to think, Danny didn't know what to say.

Danny finally clicked the television off, not able to stand the emptiness. He slid closer to Mac, resting his damn head on Mac's shoulder. Mac looked down, almost disdainfully, but seeing the look on Danny's face… the loss and sadness, his own face softened. He snaked his arm around Danny and pulled him closer, holding him once again. Danny gripped Mac as if he was his lifeline… which probably wasn't too far from the truth. Stella's words echoed in his head.

_"Tell him the truth, Danny. You'll regret it forever if you don't…" _ Danny bit his lower lip. Resolve shaking and almost failing. But this was something he would never regret… something that could make or break his entire future. If Mac was to say yes, his life would be forever complete… if Mac said no… the balcony would be the only situation.

Danny smiled, just slightly, and leaned his head up slightly, capturing Mac's lips in a kiss. He waited for a reaction. Mac looked surprised, pleasantly, and he smiled down at Danny. He pulled Danny closer and kissed him softly. Wrapped in each others arms… they felt complete.

Fin


End file.
